


Believe

by anastiel



Series: Supernatural Codas [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coda, Episode Related, Episode: s10e16 Paint It Black, Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining Dean, Religious Conflict, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-19 22:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3625917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda for "Paint it Black," inspired by Dean's confession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Say something, say something,_

_something like you love me._

 

When all is said and done, Isabella’s ghost burnt up in thin air and Sam is all packed up and ready to go, Dean returns to the church.

The cathedral is empty, no priests or nuns lurking in the shadows. Only flickering candles left by devout parishioners, lined up along the walls illuminating the holy icons. Their wispy smoke rises, lifting prayers to heaven, to an absent father and uncaring angels. Everything is silent, peaceful. Dean feels out of place, the Mark burns underneath his shirt, pulsating with the beat of his heart, wanting, wanting, wanting. He clears his throat, as he moves down the aisle and the noise reverberates against the walls, echoing like a gong. He sits down in the second row of pews, glancing around in the dim light. He’s not alone, that’s for sure. There is someone, or something here with him, it might be an angel, another ghost, or who knows even God himself might have decided to grace Dean with his presence.

Dean clasps his hands together, folding his fingers down onto the top of his hands and leans forward, resting his hands onto the top of the front pew. He closes his eyes, bows his head and takes a deep breath in.

“Prayin’s never been easy for me. So I never prayed, not for many years, I couldn’t see the point. If God, if he was around he didn’t give a rat’s ass about me or my family or all the hell he allowed to happen to us. I figured if he didn’t care, why should I bother giving up my time to him.”

Dean pauses, his voice loud in the silence and with every word, he breaks the holiness. He’s full of poison, every word that leaves his mouth drips dark, falling onto the floor at his feet, spreading into a black puddle. He shouldn’t be here.

“I guess, after all I’ve done, after all these years, there’s something in me that isn’t ready to go yet. This thing, this curse inside me, it’s going to kill me I can feel it. And this time my death will be final, no take backs, no soul selling, nothing. I’ll be dead for real. Even though I’ve spent my entire life looking in the face of death, I can’t.... I can’t leave. Not yet. There’s so much I need to say, that I need to do. I... I want Sam to know that I’m so proud of him, for everything we’ve done together, how many people we saved. I want him to know that not being able to save me isn’t his fault, that it’s okay, that he can’t save everyone. I want him to know that I love him so goddamn much and that he’s the best brother any guy could ever ask for and I’m happy, so fucking happy that he’s my mine. I want him to know that when I die, it’s okay for him to live his own life, that he doesn’t have to bring me back. I know he’ll be alright, eventually, he’s strong like that.”

He takes a shaky breath in, wiping away a few sneaky tears that trail down his cheeks with his coat sleeve.

“And Cas... there’s so many things I wanna say to him. So many things I’ve tried to say but never found the words and now I’m running out of time and I’m worried I won’t get the chance to tell him the truth. Cause I don’t know when it happened, maybe it was Purgatory, maybe it was later, maybe it was the day that I met him in that barn seven years ago, but somewhere along the way I figured out that I can’t live without him. And goddamnit I’m in love with him.”

Dean sniffles, lips tipping up into the hint of smile. That’s the first time he’s ever admitted it to himself out loud that he is in love with Cas. He waits for the dread to come, the bolt of lightening from God, the damnation. But there’s nothing, only peace and a thousand weights lifted off his shoulders. Freedom.

He releases a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding, unclasping his hands and resting them on his thighs. “I guess this is my true confession: I’m scared shitless. I’m scared of dying, I’m scared of dying and not knowing what it would have been like to... to be with him. I guess I’ll never know cause I’m too much of a coward to say something and I don’t wanna mess everything up. He’s my best friend and I can’t... I won’t lose him over wanting to be more than that.”

He bites his lip, swallowing down a sob as a new batch of tears slide down his cheeks.

“I think... I think the problem is that I know Cas would make me happy. I know... I know he... he wants this, me, whatever too but I... I’ve never felt like this about anyone, ever. Not Lisa, not Cassie, no one. It’s too big, there’s too much at stake and I just... I just can’t.”

His hands find his face, cover his eyes, and he cries. He cries over thousands of missed chances, of a reckless life, of wanting, wanting, wanting and never finding solace, and of needing, always needing.

A gentle hand alights on his shoulder and he jolts upright, not bothering to hide his red eyes and tear-streaked face.

“Agent Almond?” Sister Matthias says. She appeared out of nowhere, Dean must have been too focused to even hear her walk down the aisle.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be in here, I’ll leave, I’m just.. I was just...” Dean stutters, shakily rising to his feet.

Her grip is firm on his shoulder, but her eyes are soft and caring, “It’s alright.”

Dean looks up at her with wide eyes, slowly sitting back down.

“How much did you hear?” He asks.

She smiles softly, “Enough. Would you like to talk about it?”

Dean shakes his head, “No, no that’s okay. It’s... I’m fine.”

Sister Matthias frowns. “I will not judge you. Christ taught us to love and care for those who are in pain, and it is obvious you are in great pain.”

Dean looks up at her, then nods slowly. “Okay.”

He scoots over on the pew so she can sit next to him. He clasps his hands in his lap and avoids her prying eyes. It’s easier that way.

“Tell me about Cas, “She says.

“You sure about that Sister? I thought the whole gay thing was kinda against your religion?”

“We are not all so closed-minded, Agent, especially me.”

“Oh... well what do you wanna know?”

“You love him, but you are reluctant to tell him, why?”

Dean sighs, raising his eyes and fixing them on the stained-glass window above him, depicting an angel - he’s not sure which one - wings outstretched, face solemn, powerful.

Dean shrugs. “He’s been my best friend for seven years, he’s given up everything for me, multiple times, he’s... gone against his family to save me to help me, but this past year I’ve... I’ve done some bad things. I’ve done some things that even someone as... uh angelic as him couldn’t look past so I guess I’m worried that if he did love me, he doesn’t anymore.”

Sister Matthias nods, reaching over and covering Dean’s hand with her own. “I understand.”

“You do?” Dean asks, turning to her, confused.

“I loved someone once and I regret every day I didn’t tell her.”

“Her?”

“Yes. Her name was Cecila. I met her my third year of college. We were... best friends and I found myself falling for her, faster and harder than any other girl before. I was raised... with a fairly conservative family, they knew about my sexuality but were not accepting and sent me off to a Christian College hoping I would shape up. I was overwhelmed. I loved Cecila more than anything, but knew my family wouldn’t ever accept our love for each other, so I did the only logical thing: I ran. I ended up here, broken hearted, lost, hopeless. To deal with my grief I committed my life to Christ and I... I feel as whole as a person can be, but if I’m being honest, sometimes, a lot of the time I feel out of place, and wrong. Don’t make the same mistake I did, Agent.”

“So what, you think I should tell him?”

Sister Matthias contemplates this, worrying her lip between her teeth, before fixing her eyes confidently on Dean’s. “I think that if he is as devoted to you as you say he is, if he’s done all these things for you, if he’s... given up his life for you, then despite whatever bad you have done, he will forgive you. It is clear that he loves you a great deal. I was taught that one cannot have love without sacrifice and sometimes, sacrifice is the biggest sign of love. You should tell him.”

Dean nods, squeezing her hand. It’s going to take a hell of a lot of strength he doesn’t have to tell Cas. He has no fucking clue how to tell him, but he will. He has to, he can’t die not knowing.

“You know something Sister, If it’s not too late for me, then it’s not too late for you either.”

Sister Matthias glances down at her lap and shakes her head vigorously. “No, I couldn’t... I’ve already taken my vows, she’s... she’s probably forgotten all about me.”

“Do you want her?” Dean asks.

“More than anything,” Sister Matthias replies without a second thought.

“Then go get her, kid.”

She smiles, brilliantly and Dean smiles back. The sun comes out from behind the clouds and shines through the glass panes, sending colors dancing across the church walls - a sign of a new beginning.

“Thanks,” Dean says rising from the pew. “I should get going.”

“Of course,” Sister Matthias says as Dean steps past her, “but promise me something.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t know what it is you’re going through, but obviously you have people who care about you so promise me you won’t give up, that you’ll keep fighting.”

“I promise,” Dean says.

“Thank you. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“You too, Sister.”

With one last squeeze of her hand, Dean leaves the church. Stepping out into the bright sunshine and climbing into the passenger seat next to his brother.

Dean calls Cas when they make a pit stop in Syracuse. His voices shakes when he says Cas’s name and he almost drops the phone in his lap. He asks Cas to meet them back at the bunker in two days, he doesn’t say why, just that he needs him to be there. It’s enough, he knows it’s enough. Cas agrees instantly. It’s then that Dean realizes this might be the hardest thing he ever has to do, but in the end it will be worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions aren't Dean's strong point, but sometimes, when you're helplessly in love with your best friend, they're necessary.

Cas gets to the bunker first. He’s there when Sam and Dean pull up to the garage, the Continental pulled right up next to the closed door, just waiting. Instantly Dean’s heart speeds up in anticipation, fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings, a million flaps a minute. He can’t fucking do this. Dean pulls up to the door, almost crashing into it, before realizing - oh, right he has to push the button if he wants to get into the garage.

“Dean?” Sam asks, looking over at him, eyebrows scrunched together.

“What?”

“You okay?”

Dean nods, slamming his fingers into the button attached to the sun visor. “Yeah, I’m peachy.”

He rolls the impala to a stop, not saying another word. Before Sam can ask him anymore pestering questions and look at him with his sad, worried eyes, he lumbers out of the car and out of the garage to see Cas.

Dean rounds the corner just as Cas is getting out of his car. He looks the same - trenchcoat still too big on him, flapping around him like a wayward sail, tie askew around his neck, and black pants too dressy. He looks normal. Huh. Dean figured that maybe admitting he was in love with his best friend would change something when he saw Cas again. But no, nothing changed. Except now that deep thrumming of want within him sings through him, a joyous melody that Dean can no longer tune out.

“Hey,” Dean says. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, walking over to Cas.

“Hello, Dean. Are you alright?” Cas asks, pushing the door shut and looking up at Dean with worried eyes.

“Yeah, I’m good. How are you?” Dean asks. He’s fumbling, killing for time, putting off the inevitable.

“I’m well. Is there something you needed, is the Mark bothering you?” Cas asks, taking a step closer, eyes crinkling at the edges in that ridiculously adorable way they always have, which does nothing for the erratic beating of Dean’s heart.

“Uhhhh,” Dean flounders, tugging his hands out of his pockets, darting his eyes away from Cas’s. “I’m managing. Could - could we go for a drive? Just for a bit. I... I have something I need to tell you.”

Cas nods. “Of course. Where are we going?”

Dean shrugs.  “I dunno, you can choose.”

The tiniest hint of a smile tips up Cas’s lips. “I’ll drive.”

Dean isn’t so sure he could manage to drive right now anyway, he might end up crashing into a telephone pole or something. That wouldn’t be very conducive for his whole, “Let’s Tell Cas I’m In love With Him” plan.

“Okay.”

 

~~~

Dean doesn’t know where they are going, but he doesn’t care. Cas just drives, taking a back road and cruising at _exactly_ thirty-five miles an hour, which is slightly annoying. He’s heaven’s greatest rebel, shouldn’t adhering to speed limits be the worst of his worries? Cas doesn’t listen to music anymore either while driving. The last time Dean was in the car with him and Crowley he had some sort of hip-hop song playing. It must not have done it for him, or he gave up trying to listen to music all together, because now Cas drives in silence. If Dean was nervous before, he’s practically shaking now, fidgeting in his seat and methodically tapping his fingers against the windowsill in time to the humming of the motor. And he most certainly isn’t looking anywhere near Cas.

Instead of staring at his feet, he looks around Cas's car. The Continental is the first thing Cas has ever owned. And honestly? It’s kinda sweet what he’s done with the thing. There is a little pinetree air freshener hanging off the mirror next to a some sort of protection medallion. He has a pair of sunglasses on the sun visor, a cheap pair that he no doubt picked up in a gas station while traveling. There’s a blanket in the back seat, a few cases of beer hidden beneath, Dean can see their bulky shape poking through the fabric. A spare pair of shoes on the floor and one of Dean’s old Rolling Stones t-shirt he lent Cas last year when he was a human and had nothing to his name.

Dean remembers Cas being so thankful, staring at the shirt like it was a piece of precious treasure. Then he’d pulled off that atrocious red hoodie and green shirt combo and slid on Dean’s shirt that fit him far too well to be natural.

He hadn’t realized Cas would actually keep the thing.

There are a few burger wrappers thrown across the left side of the back, crumbled into little balls and stuffed into their original bags - Cas has a preference for Biggerson’s. Huh.

He glances around some more, hoping for some clue, some other memento of himself that will make Cas’s feelings glaringly obvious. Maybe Cas installed a flashy sign on this road like the ones on the Vegas Strip that says, HEY DEAN, I LOVE YOU TOO. That would be nice, it would be easier. Dean wouldn’t have to say anything that way, he could just smile, lean over and kiss Cas for the first time. It would be so easy.

Dean turns his eyes back to the road. It’s late in the afternoon and very few cars are traveling down Lebanon’s back roads at this time of the day. The sky above them is tinged pink and orange, stretching across the plains, the colors deepening as they dip down and swoop along the curvature of the earth. He hasn’t seen a sunset like this in awhile. This whole situation feels far more cheesy than he intended, but what can he say? Sometimes Mother Nature just knows what he needs.

“Hey Cas? Where are we going?”

He makes the decision to finally get over himself and speak not because he wants to, but because if he doesn’t say it now, he knows he never will. He will be trapped on this never-ending road with Cas, no divergence, no ending, with the sunset dancing in front of them, always just barely out of reach.

Cas glances over at him briefly, then fixes his eyes back on the road. “Wherever you want. You said you wanted to talk, so I figured I’d just drive until you were ready to talk about what you wanted to talk about.”

“Oh,” Dean says. They might have kept driving all night. Cas would have kept driving, kept waiting on him as long as Dean needed him too. He stares at the road ahead of them and points. “See that little gravel area up there?”

“Yes.”

“Can you pull over up there? Just park on the shoulder. ”

“I can.”

If Dean thought that what he has to say wouldn’t affect Cas one way or another, he would tell him while they were driving, when Cas isn’t looking at him, staring at him so intently and so openly. He wouldn’t have to make eye contact or worry about the annoying little stutter in his voice that pops up when he gets nervous. But he’s not dumb, he knows that telling Cas an earth shattering revelation might be bad when partially human Castiel hasn’t been driving for a long time.

Cas pulls the car over, the wheels shooting gravel out and up. The pebbles crack against the windows, scattering on the hood, falling back to the ground as Cas puts the car into park and leans back in his seat, looking at Dean.

“What is it you have to tell me?” Cas asks. His voice is softer than Dean’s ever heard it, so gentle and ready for whatever Dean is about to say.

Dean gulps, his rand hand finding the edge of the seat and clinging to the cushion for dear life. He needs something to hold onto, something to ground him. “I don’t... really know how to say this, honestly.”

“Take your time.”

Dean looks up at him at those words. He’s taken back to that high school, that play where a version of his Cas sang a song about waiting. Waiting for a word, waiting for help, always waiting for him. It’s been seven years, he’s done making Cas wait.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I don’t know what the Mark is going to do to me, where I’l end up in the next few months, the next year, hell I don’t even know if I’ll still be me next week. I might lose it, I might finally snap. I’m trying so damn hard to keep this rage inside me, to keep it locked in and to not let the Mark succeed in turning me into something I don’t want to become. But I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

He pauses, glancing down at his hands for a moment and notices how pale they are, how they tremble with the slightest force. He can’t stop now, he’s almost there, the words on the tip of his tongue. He can do this.

“I know I might die. And I know you and Sam are gonna try and stop that and I’m thankful, I really am, but there’s things you don’t know that... I should’ve told you years ago. Maybe we wouldn’t be in this much of a goddamn mess if I had, I don’t know. I just... the other day I had a dream, a happy one. Sam was there, he had this girl on his arm and man, she was gorgeous. She was everything I’d ever hoped for him. Charlie was there and she had a girlfriend, a spunky gal, really pretty, and really smart. You were there. With me. And we were standing in the kitchen watching all of them laughing and smiling. You had your arm around my waist and I leaned over and kissed you. I’d never felt so happy in my life.”

Dean bites his lip, keeping the tears he can feel welling in the corners of his eyes at bay. He doesn’t dare look at Cas. “I know I’m never gonna get that kind of life. I’ll probably be dead sooner rather than later. But I just... I just want you. Here. With me. And I don’t wanna die not knowing what it would be like to actually be with you, to wake up in the morning with you next to me, to kiss you all the time whenever I wanted. I understand if you don’t want that, I totally get it and if that’s the case, just forget I ever said anything. I just thought that you should know how I feel, yeah. So, that’s it.”

Dean gives a half-hearted shrug and finally looks up at Cas, his heart racing. Cas is smiling, a genuine, honest-to-god, smile. Dean hasn’t seen him smile like this, well, ever. It shocks him and he’s left gasping for air and frantically wiping escaping tears off his cheeks.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“Why aren’t you kissing me yet?” Cas asks, lips twitching in amusement.

“Wait, you mean you...”

“After everything I’ve done,  did you really think that I wouldn’t feel the same way? Dean Winchester, you silly, self-deprecating man, of course I am in love with you.”

Dean laughs, a full-bodied, belly-aching laugh that makes his stomach ache in all the right places. He doesn’t know why he’s laughing, only that he can’t contain all the joy inside him it has to come out somehow. Once he’s recovered a little, he grins to himself and stares at Cas.  “Good, that’s good. Yeah, I’m really glad you feel the same why.”

“You still haven’t kissed me yet.” Cas says, teasing.

“Shut up," Dean replies with a grin. He rotates in the seat, turning so he can face Cas as much as possible. His palm finds it’s way to the curve of Cas’s cheek, resting there for a brief moment, then he pulls Cas in and brings their lips together. It’s not the best first kiss he’s ever had, but it’s definitely not the worst. But for the first time he feels like he’s flying, like his heart is about to explode into a thousand miniscule pieces. For the first time in a year he forgets about the Mark, about the constant throbbing under his skin.

Dean starts to pull away first, but Cas, the eager little fucker, pulls him back in, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck. He kisses him deeply, then presses a dozen short and sweet kisses to the corner of Dean’s mouth, his cheeks, his forehead and finally one more on his mouth before releasing him with a happy smirk.

“Would you like to go on a date?” Cas asks.

“A what?”

“A date. Isn’t that what people do when they are together, go on dates?”

It’s such a normal thing, that Dean can’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah. Sure, we can go on a date, where do you wanna go?”

Cas frowns, contemplating. “There is a diner in town. They have pie and burgers, we could go there if that’s alright.”

Dean smiles, reaching over and taking Cas’s hands, lacing their fingers together. “Sounds great.”

The sun is dipping below the horizon now, all the colors dissipating into a band of cool, dark purple. Cas’s hand is warm in his and his stomach gnaws at itself in anticipation of pie. He has no idea what the coming months will bring, if everything and everyone he loves will be destroyed beneath his own fingers. But he’s not going to focus on that. He’s going to focus on today, right now. And right now, he’s happy.


End file.
